


Bloom

by jehansflower



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, courf/jehan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:36:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehansflower/pseuds/jehansflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac has been fawning over Jehan since the poet first moved to town, and maybe the feelings have been secretly (or not so secretly) mutual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of an introduction so it may seem like things are moving rather slowly, but they should pick up soon enough! -O

     "For my dreams of your image that blossoms/ a rose deep in my heart," murmured Jehan softly, feeling rather sleepy as he stared out of the window into the night. Courfeyrac grinned down at the small man in his arms and Jehan sighed contentedly, his eyes fluttering closed.

     "Who was that?" Courfeyrac asked, shuffling Jehan around on his lap to keep his legs from going numb.

     "Yeats," Jehan answered, sitting up and pulling his knees up to his chest. Courfeyrac pulled him to his side and Jehan laid his head on his shoulder, making his hair fall over Courf's chest.

     "I liked it." He grinned at Jehan, who didn't seem to notice.

 

      Courfeyrac had moved into the small apartment with Jehan after his lease had expired. (and after none of the others accepted his company as "roommate material".) Courfeyrac had always been quite fond of the little poet, and so when Jehan had accepted, his heart seemed to lighten somehow. As he spent more and more time with Jehan, his fondness grew.

     When he had finally told Cosette about his feelings for Jehan, she had squealed and skipped away. He decided not to talk to her about it anymore, but instead took to admiring Jehan from afar, and trying not to attach himself, which proved to be quite the challenge for him; someone who latched on rather quickly.

 

     Just then, he felt a light jab on his side. He looked down and Jehan was poking a skinny finger into his side, giggling quietly.

     "What?" Courf asked.

     "You're doing it again." Jehan grinned innocently and Courfeyrac looked a little confused. "Y'know, staring at me like you've never seen me before," he clarified.

     Courf went red. "S-sorry," he mumbled. Jehan snuggled against his side again, and Courf began absentmindedly braiding strands of Jehan's long, soft, dirty blond hair together.

     "For who is there that lives and knows/the secret powers by which he grows," Jehan recited in a sleepy whisper.

     "Who?" Courfeyrac asked, as he always would.

     "Christopher Brennan," Jehan answered through a yawn that made Courf smirk a little.  _God he's adorable,_ Courf thought to himself.

     "I like your poetry." He continued sifting his long, thing fingers through Jehan's hair. Jehan hummed and pulled one of Courfeyrac's hands down, kissing his knuckles lightly.

     "And I like  _you_ _,_ Courf," he mumbled, letting his sleepy eyes fall closed.

     Courfeyrac grinned, even knowing the man meant nothing by those words. e often said little things like that. After all, he was quite the romantic. Nevertheless, Courfeyrac scooped up the curled up, sleeping Jehan and carried im into his bedroom and pulled the flowered comforter over his small body.

     It made Courf giggle when jehan mewled in his half-asleep state and rolled over, stretching himself out like a cat. "Goodnight little kitten," he whispered as he closed the door and stepped across the hall into his own room.

      _I should tell him how I feel,_ Courf thought. But he coudn't. How could a bold flirt such as himself find words to tell this strong, graceful, beautiful man how he felt.

     "Christ, why did I have to fall for him?" Courf grumbled into his pillow before turning over and retiring to sleep filled with dreams of- well, we need not discuss those dreams at the present moment. Because after all, they  _were_ Courfeyrac's dreams, so I'm sure we need not paint you an obvious picture.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courfeyrac becomes Jehan's not-date.

     "You've been fawning over him since the poor boy first moved here," Cosette said pointedly, sipping at her overly-frilly coffee.  _"For fuck's sake, I'm_ gay _and I wouldn't drink that,"_ Courfeyrac would always say as she ordered it nearly every morning and as he drank plain black coffee. She was right though, of course - about Courf always having an infactuation with Jehan. When he had moved in next door, Courfeyrac had run to everyone and throughly interrogated them for any information about the fellow. When they proved to have a signifcant lack of knowledge about him, Courf had taken it upon himself to charm his way into the young man's life. Jehan had laughed sweetly at him, and planted a kiss on his cheek and a daisy in his hair.

     "There's just something so god damn intriguing about him," he said, leaning an elbow on the counter and letting out an exasperhated sigh. "And downright  _sexy_ sometimes," he added.

     "I don't know what to tell you, Courf," Cosette said defeatedly, shaking her head.

     He rolled his upper half onto the counter and flailed his arms weakly. "But I  _love_ him Cosette!" he said dramatically. "My heart beats for him, my dreams are filled with him, I cannot live another day without my Jehan!" His hands flew over his heart and he gasped, falling back and and opening one eye to squint at Cosette.

     "Jesus, you're a piece of fucking work, Courf." She rolled her eyes and laughed at him before standing up to leave. "Why don't you  _tell_ him for a start, huh?" As she stood, the door swung open and Jehan walked - nay,  _waltzed -_ in, clad in dark skinny jeans and a peach-colored, floral sweater that was two sizes too big, and his blond hair was pulled over his shoulder in a loose braid adorned with pink lupines.

     "Tell who what?" Jehan inquired, siling at them both with a hint of curiousity in his big blue eyes.

     "Courf's in  _love_ ," Cosette murmured in his ear as she left out the front door, shooting a sly smirk back at Courfeyrac who was still half laying on the counter, and turning pinker by the second.

     Jehan's face lit up, and Courfeyrac straightened himself and flashed his infamous "I-don't-know-what-she's-talking-about" smile; teeth and all. 

     "Oh, you can't fool me one bit," Jehan assured him, dancing his way over and bumping Courfeyrac's hip with his own. "Now tell me." He looked too giddy  _not_ to smile at.

     "No one," said Courfeyrac, playing it off and turning around quickly to hide his burning cheeks.

     "Oh alright, alright," Jehan said, playing along. "I see. Fine, you're definitely _not_ in love." A little smirk pulled at the corners of Jehan's mouth as he turned Courfeyrac back around to face him.

     "Please poet, you would just be absolutely beside yourself with joy if _I_   were in love." Courfeyrac tapped him on the nose and Jehan scrunched up his face.

     "You're in love? Figures," scoffed Enjolras as he walked in, the bell on the door noting his arrival. He smiled warmly when he saw Jehan, and lightly kissed the top of his head.

     Courfeyrac looked utterly stunned. "Since when are you kissing people and why have I not been notified!" He threw his hands in the air and looked exhasperated.

     "He's too cute  _not_ to kiss," Enjolras stated simply, and Jehan's cheeks turned rosy.

     "Kiss me, Apollo!" Courf puckered his lips out and threw himself down on a stool next to Enjolras. 

     "In your wildest dreams, little Courf." Courfeyrac stuck his tounge out and scrunched his nose at Enjolras, then spun his stool and faced Jehan who was laughing at the two of them.

     "Didn't you know that Enj here is in love also?"

     "Are you really?!" Jehan lit up and he leaned his elbows against the counter, his eyes fixing on Enjolras. "Where is this lucky lady?"

     "Waiting for freedom," Enjolras said bluntly, not lifting his eyes up from the papers that were now spread out in front of him.

    "Oh,  _Patria!_ " Courfeyrac moaned out, slumping himself over onto Enjolras' side.

     "Christ," Enjolras grumbled, pushing at Courf lightly.

    "Only joking," said Courfeyrac, straightening himself up. "He's in love with R."

    "I am NOT!" Enolras nearly shouted, his cheeks immediately turning a deep shade of pink.

    "Ooh, touchy." Courf put his hands up in defense.

    "Are you really, Enj?" Jehan inquired, his voice carrying a curious type of joy.

    "Of course not," Enjolras spat, more at Courfeyrac than at Jehan. "I don't fall in love with cynical drunkards. I also don't  _fall in love_." He shot another look at Courfeyrac who only batted his eyelashes and smiled.

    "But wouldn't you like to?" Jehan pressed on. "And R loves  you, or at least has some interest in you, we can all tell. He may be a drunk but when he's sober he's not all bad. He comes over a lot when Courf's out and it's just me."

    "I'm not in love with him," Enjolras reiterated, and then stuck his nose back to his papers and refused to respond to anything further.

 

     "So that was weird with Enj earlier, at the cafe," Jehan said once he and Courfeyrac were back in their apartment, watching the rainstom from out of their living room window.

     "Nah, not really, Courfeyrac said dismissively, pulling at a loose pice of thread on the couch. "He's always like that when you bring up anything with Grantaire. Or anything with love, for that matter. Just not his thing."

    "I know, but it was still odd. It seems like he might actually have feelings for him." Jehan looked back out of the window. It had been raining ever since noon that day, and it was now nearing ten that night. 

    "Enjolras? No way, no..." Courfeyrac trailed off, thinking for a moment, before shaking his head and looking back up at Jehan. "No, Enjolras isn't...I mean, he's just not..." He was having a hard time formulating his words and so he looked at Jehan depserately. 

     "Gay, yeah, I gathered that, but just...he can't  _not_ think about it at least sometimes. I mean R is practically in love with him. You've seen him stare at Enjolras, you've heard him talk about him, you've-" Courfeyrac cut him off.

    "Shh, you're babbling again." Jehan stood up and walked over to the couch, sitting next to him and grabbing his hand, tracing all the lines of his palm and sending shivers up Courfeyrac's spine. "Maybe Enj just needs a fuck buddy," he said, his eyes focused on the smooth tracing that Jehan's long, thin fingers were doing on his own hand.

    "Courf!" he said, looking a little shocked.

    "What?" Courfeyrac laughed at his expression. "The man's like a god, I would snatch that opportunity up in the blink of an eye." Courfeyrac shifted so that he had his head lying in the poet's lap, and Jehan began twirling his dark curls around his fingers.

     "Hey Courf?" Jehan backpedaled, his hands carding through the dark locks.

    "Mm?"

    "Wanna go to a poetry reading with me tomorrow night? I know it's not really your thing but no one else wanted to go with me and I don't really like going alone so-" Courfeyrac slipped his hand over Jehan's mouth, blinking slowly up at him.

    "Are you asking me on a  _date?_ " Courfeyrac said, mocking his surprise.

    "Well no, not a date, I just-" Jehan's words were muffled behind Courf's hand.

    "Sure, I'd love to go listen to some old guy read some other dead guy's poetry abot love and loss and pain and suffering," Courfeyrac joked, pulling his hand from Jehan's mouth.

    "It's not all like that, I swear," Jehan mumbled, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed for asking.

    "I know, hey, I know," Courfeyrac assured him, siting up and tilting Jehan's chin so that he was looking straight at him. "I was only joking my little flower. I woud be absolutely honored to go with you, as your not-date."

    Jehan laughed, planting a soft kiss on Courf's forehead before standing up from the couch. "I'm going to bed I think, goodnight Courf." He laid another kiss on the top of his head and as he turned around, Courf smacked his ass. Jehan gasped and turned around, and Courf grinned toothily at him before they parted into their separate rooms.

      _Maybe tomorrow's it, maybe I can tell him,_ Courfeyrac thought as he laid in his bed.  _Or maybe, even better, I won't have to tell him. Maybe he'll do that much for me._ Either way, he felt lucky about tomorrow evening.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used Howl as the poem in this because it just came to mind

     "What do I do?" Courfeyrac was pacing back and forth in front of the couch that Cosette was seated on, continually checking his watch. 5:45 P.M. Almost an hour until he was supposed to meet Jehan at their apartment so they could go to the poetry reading that night.

     "Yeah..." She was nearly unresponsive, her eyes on the screen of her phone.

     "Are you even listening to me?" Courfeyrac said, his voice tipping on the verge on panic.

     She snapped to attention, shaking her head slightly. "Yeah, sorry, Marius was just- never mind, what's up?"

     "What do I do about tonight with Jehan? He said it wasn't a date and I probably shouldn't even be worried about it but I just don't know what's going to happen and I am  _very_ nervous, wich doesn't happen often to me when it comes to these types of things," he rambled, pacing even faster and running a hand through his curls.

     "First, stop pacing. You're making yourself worked up." Courfeyrac plopped down next to her on the couch, looking up at her.

    "I don't want to make a fool of myself around him," he said.

    "Oh, you're going to do that anywas," Cosette joked.

     "Co _-sette_ ," Courf whined.

     "Don't worry. Let whatever happens, happen. Don't try and force anything on Jehan, just let things take their own course," she advised. "You'll be fine, I'm sure of it. I'm having a girls night with Ep tonight, so text me if you need anything, alright?" She stood up to leave, rubbing his back quickly before walking out of the door, calling her goodbye from the hallway.

 

    Courfeyrac walked into he and Jehan's apartment at about 6:45, after much time spent calming himself down and complaining to Enjolras, who finally kicked him out so that he could lock up the bar and take Grantaire - who was more drunk than usual - back to his own place to sleep. Courfeyrac couldn't help but smile at that, but after Enjolras had left, of course.

     As he stepped past the threshold, he found Jehan sitting criss-cross on their pale blue couch with a notebook balanced on one knee, and his hair loose and billowing around his slouched shoulders. The pen in his hand was flying over the page, looping his letters together and scratching out unwanted words. He looked up when he heard the door open, and smiled warmly.

    "Hi, Courf," he said, closing is notebook and pulling his hair over his shoulder, beginning to weave it into a braid.

    "Hi, are you almost ready to go? I figured I'd actually be on time for once." Jehan chuckled and stood up, securing his braid with a purple elastic and grabbing his jacket from the rack next to the door.

     "Yeah, I'm ready!" he said, motioning for Courf to step out of the door so he could lock it behind them.

 

     The small bar was wedged in between two buildings, almost as though someone had hollowed out a space in between the two doorways and added another door. It was dimly lit with candles and dusty lamps, but crowded all the same. Jehan smiled at the familiar sight and squeezed Courfeyrac's arm, leading him in through the slanted door. 

     "It's not as bad as it looks," Jehan pleaded, noticing Courf's face as they entered. The entire space seemed to be filled with smoke and loud voices. Everyone was talking and laughing; smoking and drinking. 

     "Seems like a decent place to me," Courf said with a smile, pulling a pack from his pocket and shaking a cigarette out. A man walked over to them and asked for a light, so Courfeyrac pulled out his lighter and lit both of their cigarettes. The man smiled as thanks and walked off.

    "It should be starting soon, c'mon, sit with me." Jehan grabbed Courfeyrac's hand and pulled them over to a bench with just enough room for them both to sit on. He pulled out his own pack of cigarettes and lit one, crossing his legs and scooting close to Courf. Courfeyrac grinned and snaked a cautious arm around Jehan, who made no move to pull away.

 

    _"-Who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight in policecars for committing no crime but their own wild cooking pederasty and intoxication!"_ The man standing at the pedestal on the small bar stage yelled out. _"Who howled on their knees in the subway and were dragged off the roof waving genitals and manuscripts! Who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy!"_ Cheering and shouts errupted from the heavily intoxicated crowd of people, and a thick cloud of smoke rose as everyone puffed at an unsually syncopated time. Jehan and Courf cheered as well, Courfeyrac pounding a fist in the air and pulling Jehan close with the arm that was now around his waist.

     Jehan leaned in close to Courfeyrac, his breath hot against his ear. "It's stuffy in here, let's get some air." Courfeyrac nodded eagerly, standing up and following him outside.

     The night air felt cool and crisp against warm skin, and neither of them bothered putting their jackets on.

     "Got a light?" Jehan muttered through the cigarette dangling between his teeth. Courfeyrac nodded and pulled his lighter out, leaning in and cupping a hand around the flame as he lit the cigarette. Jehan took a long draw and blew a steady stream of smoke into the dark. Courfeyrac lit his own cigarette and drew from it as well.

     "You should bring me to these more often," Courfeyrac said, breaking the easy silence. 

     "Oh, they aren't usually that much fun," Jehan noted, flicking ashes from his cigarette onto the pavement. "Usually they're long and boring and in a banquet room at the college. I thought you'd like that one a little more than any other."

     Courfeyrac nodded, stomping his bud out with his foot and leaning against the wall of the bar.

      _"-Who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears and the blast of colossal steamwhistles!"_ Came the shouting voice from inside the bar, followed by more roars and clapping.

    Jehan smiled and put his cigarette out. "I like that line," he said, leaning against the wall next to Courfeyrac.

   Courf turned his head and studied Jehan. How is features were soft but still sharp, and how his deep blue-grey eyes looked nearly black in the darkness of the night. Or how the hairs that had fallen out of his braid now lay across his neck and back. And the way Jehan's lips always seemed curve up ever so slightly, as if he were always wearing this gentle smile.  _God, his lips_ Courfeyrac thought as he tried to refrain from kissing the poet right then and there. His lips looked soft and full, and he swiped his tounge across the bottom lip every so often. 

     "Jehan, I-..." Jehan looked over at Courfeyrac and smiled softly. Courf tucked a piece of loose hair behind Jehan's ear and leaned in to him. "Jehan-," he tried again, but Jehan instead took his face in both of hands and pulled Courfeyrac down, catching his lips in a kiss. Courf leaned into the man, putting a hand out to catch himself from hitting the brick wall that Jehan was still leaning against, but being careful not to break their kiss. Jehan's mouth tasted of cigarettes and mint, and Courf was positively drinking him in, charting every moment in his mind to save for later.

    Jehan then pulled away a little, still keeping very close to Courfeyrac and holding his gaze, both of their breathing a little heavier. "I never asked anyone else to come with me tonight, they didnt turn me down, I only wanted you to come with me." 

     Courf nodded. "Good," he whispered, pressing his lips back to Jehan's and placing his hands on his sides, slotting fingers between his ribs, pulling their bodies closer. 

     A couple of men walked out of the bar, saw them, and cheered drunkenly. Courfeyrac laughed against Jehan, and pulled away as one of the men clapped him on the shoulder.

     "I would be jealous too if I saw someone with you," Courf said quietly into Jehan's ear once the men had stumbled away. He planted a kiss on Jehan's neck and Jehan drew in a sharp breath and pulled Courfeyrac back to him, trailing kisses along his cheek and jawline before he laid one final peck on his lips.

      "I'm glad you came with me," Jehan said softly, pressing their foreheads together and smiling. 

      Courfeyrac pecked his smiling lips and then his nose. "Me too," he sighed happily. "Me too."


End file.
